The clock strikes midnight and the room is bathed in shadow. Gabriel's figure stands by the window, wings a silhouette against the moonlight. Your heart races as his eyes lock onto yours, a mix of fear and longing in his gaze. The air is thick with the scent of old books and a faint, metallic tang of magic. Every movement is deliberate, every breath a struggle against the darkness. His hand reaches out, voice soft, pleading, 'I need you to trust me, no matter what you see.'